Rodeo Man
by Jello Ink
Summary: Dark fic in Irvine's POV. Sometimes Irvine acts too solely on emotion, with dire consequences.


Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to Square and in turn they own nothing of mine.   
This story gnawed at my brain through English class today and I thought *sigh* must write...  
A get you thinking piece in Irvine's POV. Very dark.  
  
  
  
It's always been just me alone. For a while there I got my hopes up, I let myself dream that it could be another way. I know now that my hopes weren't built on a solid foundation. Maybe that sounds dramatic to you, but for me it's just the facts of life.  
  
  
  
Right from when I was little, running around with my squirt gun, I was a lady killer. Unfortunately, the term has proved more accurate than I'd like. I killed 'em all right. Killed their affection quicker than you can say 'cowboy'. Sure they were attracted at first, but then they saw that I had troubles, just like everyone else. They were there for the facade. To say that they had once been a girlfriend of mine, of Irvine Kinneas. Not that it meant much after a while. Anybody and everybody had been a girlfriend of Irvine Kinneas. The title no longer held prestige or bragging rights. And pretty soon I was using them and not the other way around. It comforted me for a while, to know that they were the ones left crying alone at night.  
  
  
  
She made me see the light. I could see no comfort in breaking her sunshine-filled heart. She enlightened me every time she spoke my name, or looked at me with that grin on her face. I've never told her just how much she meant to me. Maybe that was my mistake. Yes, I took her for granted, just like air, my sunny Selphie would be around forever. Then one day she wasn't.  
  
  
  
But let's back up a bit. Can't jump from A to B without seeing the sights along the way. Wouldn't be the same.  
  
  
  
People think I'm a flirt. Stupid but charming will be on my epitaph, of that I have no doubt. Only half of each title is true. I don't say much, unless you count pick up lines. Mostly I watch. You'd be surprised how much you can see if you just take the time to look. Don't waste your time filling the empty air with speech. Use your gaze to know things. Do not ask what is wrong, observe what is wrong. This quality is something that makes me the master flirt I am. I can take a good look at a girl and know exactly what she wants from me. A wink, a line, a nod, someone to talk to, her body language and her eyes tell me everything I need to know. Half of the sparkle girls see in my eyes when I speak to them isn't a flirt taking pleasure in his work, but a watcher taking pleasure in knowing what others could see, but choose to ignore.  
  
  
  
Selphie has always been different. I remember once she pulled a trick on Zell, just over a year ago, before everything. I saw, and I smiled my flirty smile with that twinkle in my eye, my satisfaction evident to no one. Everyone looked at Selphie with expressions that translated, leaving out the awww's and he's trouble's, meant 'Irvine's flirting with you.' So Selphie looked at them like they were crazy and half frowned. She sauntered over to me, and whispered a warning in my ear.  
  
  
  
"Don't tell him it was me." She winked and walked away. I could have run after her and kissed her. She knew what I was. She understood that appearances are just that: appearances. And she knew the guy underneath like she knew herself. That Selphie has always been able to identify with anything from a Grat to Squall and Hyne knows I have a problem with empathy. Selphie has no such inhibtion. She knows where you're coming from and where you're going. It's in her blood.  
  
  
  
About six months later, we were dating. I loved her like everything. I hate people who say 'I love her like anything'. That's how I had loved all my previous girlfriends, like any old thing. But Selphie was my EVERYTHING. And I loved her as such. So now you know the subtle difference. So I was finally with my Selphie, my everything, and for a while, the world seemed perfect.  
  
  
  
Be advised, the world will never be perfect. But love is a fog that dims tragedy, and at the same time a lighthouse throwing a beam on happiness you never knew could exist. It's a blessing and a curse, for sometimes the happiness is blind, and you don't see the cliff you're about to walk off until you teeter on the edge. So was the way with Selphie and I.  
  
  
  
I didn't notice. It is, of course, my fault. I'm not denying the responsibility. It. Is. My. Fault. I thought she knew I loved her. Me, the watcher, did not see how unsure of herself Selphie was. I didn't see that she needed to hear the words. She did feel that I loved her, I put my feeling into every kiss and gentle touch. It was not enough. She felt that I might be playing with her, like I had countless others. When I finally realized she doubted my validity as her worshipper, her love, it was too late. She was before me in tears, handing back the ring I had given her.   
  
  
  
I think my obvious shock and sorrow made her pause a moment, wonder if she was making the right choice. Then she seemed to remember something though, and left me sobbing unabashedly in the hall. Quistis took me into her dorm to calm me down. I had passed into hysterics. I kept screaming Selphie's name, she told me later. Forcing a sleeping pill down my dry, sandy throat, she let me sleep on her bed until the morning.  
  
  
  
Later I saw why Selphie hadn't reconsidered. I saw what she had remembered at that crucial second in time. He was holding her hand, whispering 'I love you' in her ear, making her giggle like I had not a few days before. It seems fitting somehow, that my two best friends be together. At least, fitting to the rest of the world. It makes no sense to me. I know he doesn't deserve her. In my mind only I do. But then, all our friends are happy for her, and I try to look at though I am for her sake. My Selphie was too smart to fool, though, just like that first day she let me know. She saw the pain lurking just below the surface. I was the watcher again, and I percieved in her the gratitude that I was taking this in stride, despite my inner hurt. As the watcher, I had to endure watching what I didn't want to see. Selphie and Zell, Zell and Selphie. My confused mind refused to believe, but my heart made sure I knew I was not having a dream. This was real and this was the way it would be.  
  
  
  
Everything's hazy now, my story has reached the present tense. I claw my way through the black fog that hovers around me, push back from my seat and run to my dorm. Sorting through the items on the floor, I have no idea what I'm searching for. My hands close around something long and cold and hard. It is my gun, and I know it's what I wanted all along. Clutching it loosely, I stagger down the stairs, looking for all the world like I'm having a normal day. I want to shoot some pigeons to vent my feelings. Maybe then I'll be able to think rationally. I know I'm not thinking rationally, but the part of me that realizes this is buried deep. Still, it recognizes my train of thought and moves into preventitive mode. I feel compelled to leave this place.   
  
  
  
I am stopped short in my tracks. They are kissing. Not two feet in front of me they are kissing. My feet propel me to the door, but my hands raise the gun. They seem to have a mind of their own. I do not see clearly, but I feel the kickback from three shots, and I hear the scream. My vision clears, and what I see makes me ill. Knowing I did it, I feel a reeling in my stomach, throwing me forward on the blood splattered floor. Tears run down my face as I fall to my knees in front of my best buddy. My best friend's hair is a crimson sunset, not blonde anymore. There is a hole in his tattoo. The pool of blood is soaking into my pants, their black color taking on the slightly red sheen of evil.  
  
  
  
"Oh, Hyne..." I sigh, hearing Selphie sobbing beside me, on her knees as well. Her cries are incoherent, but I know she is asking why. "Selphie...oh Hyne...I'm so sorry...please...believe I didn't plan this. Please don't think I got my gun with the intention of doing...this." She nods, and looks at me with understanding in her eyes. My tear rival hers in number, and she knows that my emotion grips my stronger than a drug sometimes.  
  
  
  
"I...can...understand...you...but I can't...forgive you...you should have...I.." She trails off into sobbing as I nod. I wouldn't forgive me. Even sunny Selphie has her limits, and I know she will never see me but as the friend who broke the leash on his emotion and let them take the helm. As the friend who killed her love.  
  
  
  
"Selphie...I...I'm sorry...no words..." I trail off as I raise the gun again. I point it at myself. My tears obscure my vision, and I feel Selphie's hand trying to stop me. After all I've done, her love for her friend still holds strong. Her loss is great, and mine is too. I have no excuse to feel sad, but my heartbreak knows no bounds. I pull the trigger.   
  
  
  
Fittingly, I fall beside my friend. The life drains from my veins in rivlets. The gun is pulled from my hands, and faintly, I hear the last shot. A smaller body falls between my friend and I. The last of my strength is used to form that lady killer smile. I know that somewhere, beyond all this, we will arrive in a place of peace and forgiveness, where we'll never be parted by such trivialties as love.  
  
  
  
I see no more. 


End file.
